Hadjia couldn’t tear her gaze away from the new moon. The round brilliance of the orb caught her gaze. Beneath her feet, a silvery path snaked some distance, illuminated by the moonlight. A murky forest lined the trail on either side. She drew in a deep breath, smelling a metallic, coppery scent on the air.

Hadjia continued on the path until a sound caught her attention.

Off to her right was a massive winged lion with a wiry mane and a thick, muscular tail. The lion was crouched on the ground, his pearly teeth bared and talons digging into the earth. His muscular wings unfurled around him as he snarled.

Ringing him in a half circle was a pack of foxes, their bloody jaws snapping at him. They hissed too, filling the air with a sound that made the skin on the back of her neck crawl.

Hadjia sucked in a sharp breath. She wanted to back away, but couldn’t move, as if an unseen force held her captive. Her feet seemed to be stuck on the trail even though her mind screamed at her to leave.

None of the animals noticed her presence, as if she wasn’t really there.

She watched in horror as the foxes lunged, one after another, tearing into the lion’s thick pelt. He roared, flailing. His wings beat the air futilely as the foxes pounced, tearing into his wings and preventing him from flying away. He whipped around when one fox tried to tear off his tail, and knocked it free. But there were too many attacking: As soon as one fox bit into him and he used a powerful paw to knock it free, another lunged forward and ripped into him.

One after another, the foxes attacked until the lion’s legs collapsed beneath him. His roars faded to a low gurgle. As if released by a silent command, the foxes fell upon him as one, silencing the regal lion forever.

One of the foxes lifted his head, and sniffed the air. It turned towards Hadjia, his face stained with bright blood. He licked his lips, revealing razor-sharp teeth and a pink tongue. He crouched, a deep growl echoing through his chest as he prepared to spring.

“You!”

Hadjia whipped around to see a young boy standing on the trail, his dark eyes filled with sorrow.

The child lifted an arm, pointing to her. “You are an assassin!”

* * *

Hadjia jerked awake with a low gasp in the forest she’d always known. Anzai, a boy with scruffy hair and a crooked tooth on the bottom of his mouth, shifted in his position next to her. Kaneko’s familiar eyes met Hadjia’s in a silent question.

Hadjia swallowed and shook her head, indicating that she was fine.

Why did she always fall asleep when she was in the forest? Now Hadjia had fallen asleep in the forest on the day of her very own test… the most important day of her life! How could she have done that?

No doubt her slumber was due thanks to the countless nights she’d spent worrying about this very day and the definable moment that would soon come from it.

Anzai leaned to his side and peered around a tree trunk. “They’re inside,” he murmured. “For now.”

“There’s three of them,” Kaneko replied, just quietly enough for Hadjia to hear. “You will have no problem ridding our world of three horrible people, Hadjia: two adults and the evil daughter they’re raising. We must protect the world from her evil influence.”

Hadjia didn’t look around the tree with them. She didn’t want to see the simple home amidst the open fields of grain. She didn’t want to think about the lives she was about to turn upside down, or for that matter, about Kim, Mother Sigunta, or the masked man.

“Hadjia?”

“What?”

Kaneko pressed her lips together, hesitated, then seemed to change her mind and said, “Never mind. Get some more rest. Anzai will wake us when evening arrives.”

Anzai scowled.

“It’s the way of it, Anzai,” Kaneko said breezily. Although she’d never admit it, Kaneko loved the authority of telling others what to do. “You’ll see when you have your test after Hadjia’s. You have to earn your place amongst the rest of the elite.”

Kaneko curled up at the base of the tree, in between two knotty roots, and closed her eyes. Hadjia did the same, but this time she couldn’t rest. Every now and then she eyed Anzai, who kept a wary and steady eye on the house. He was consistent, she gave him that, if not a bit prone to whining as well.

The time passed at an interminable crawl until finally the shadows started due to the arrival of dusk. Hadjia opened her eyes – she hadn’t fallen asleep – just as Anzai reached out to touch her.

“The man,” he whispered. “He is outside. The woman followed him out. The girl is still inside. I haven’t seen her come out since they returned home.”

Kaneko crouched next to Hadjia, a strange light emanating from her eyes. The light frightened Hadjia, although she wouldn’t admit it.

Kaneko put a gentle hand on Hadjia’s shoulders. “Go,” she murmured. “We cannot help you, but you don’t need us to. You will do well, Hadjia. You are destined for greatness.”

Hadjia swallowed, then pushed up off the ground before she lost her courage to do so. The words Mother Sigunta had shared with the masked man whirled through her mind, stirring up all kinds of confusion and doubt.

Were these some innocent people, the kind Mother Sigunta had admitted to killing? Could Hadjia get away with sparing their lives without Kaneko or Anzai knowing? No. She had to go through with it. Anyway, Kaneko was right: Mother Sigunta knew more than they did. She wouldn’t ask such things of them if she didn’t have her reasons. She’d saved the school from Kim’s rebellion before it became a problem, hadn’t she?

Hadjia would complete her test and honor Mother Sigunta by doing so.

Hadjia crept through the undergrowth without another word. Adrenaline coursed through veins, singing its thirsty song. Despite her reservations, she thrilled to the challenge. Soon, she’d prove herself. She would use the experience gained from all her years of work and use it in one purposeful moment that would change the rest of her fate.

She was meant for this. She was Hadjia, a Red Moon Assassin.

From the house floated the sounds of everyday life: Dishes clanking. Water spilling. A little child giggling. All were sounds Hadjia never really heard at the school. She let them flow through her mind, puzzled by the seeming normality of them all.

A man worked in a small garden outside the house with a rusty trowel, digging into the rich earth as he searched for turnips for his dinner, no doubt. Next to the man was a woman in a dress stained with mud. She burrowed her fingers into the earth, wrapped them around a weed, and pulled it free with a gentle tug. Her dress shifted in the slight breeze, carrying the scent of lavender to Hadjia.

Their backs were to Hadjia as she snuck through the grasses, pressed against the flaky wood of the house, and peered around the corner. She hesitated for only a breath before she rushed across the yard.

When she was only a few steps away, the man paused, glanced up, and widened his eyes. Hadjia held her breath, then gave her body over to the training and instincts she’d spent her entire life cultivating and listening to. She leapt into the air, and landed with both feet on his back.

With an oomph, the man plummeted to the ground. Hadjia followed, straddled his back, grabbed his chin, and jerked it to the side. A crack resounded through the air. He fell, limp, to the ground, his face staring up at Hadjia from an unnatural angle.

The woman gasped, glancing at Hadjia, who snarled. For what felt like an interminable moment, both of them paused, staring at each other.

The woman dashed back toward the house with a shrill cry, scrambling through the mud. Hadjia darted after her, tackled her to the ground, and grabbed her chin. The woman struggled, her arms flailing as she attempted to shove Hadjia free. Hadjia reached to the side, grabbed a rock, and slammed it into her temple. Dazed, the woman blinked, staring up at her. Blood trickled down her temple and into her hair, staining her hairline a deep crimson.

A strained whisper escaped her pale lips. “You,” she murmured. “It’s . . . you.”

A trembling hand reached through the air to touch Hadjia’s face, but Hadjia grabbed the woman’s hair, her face, and jerked it to the side with a guttural cry. The woman fell to the earth, limp.

Panting, Hadjia stared at the still body beneath her knees with a heavy, sinking weight in her chest. She’d waited for and craved this moment her entire life: Mother Sigunta had prepared her well. But now that it had come and gone, the sense of victory she hoped for did not present itself. All she could see was the strange cant of their necks. The glossy eyes, shining even in death.

“You did it. Without blood, even. Well done, Hadjia.”

Hadjia leaped to her feet and whipped around. Kaneko and Anzai stood behind her. Anzai stared at her, his eyes wide and nostrils flaring. When she met his gaze, he looked away and swallowed.

“Come,” Kaneko said easily, tugging at Hadjia’s sleeve. “We must clear the house and make sure no one witnessed us. Where is the daughter?”

“Giggling,” Hadjia rasped. “I heard giggling.”

Anzai canted his head to the side. “Footsteps,” he murmured.

Kaneko casually stepped over the body of the man, his head twisted in an unnatural direction, and his body slack, as if she saw this kind of thing every day – which, knowing Kaneko and her close position with The Mother, she likely did, Hadjia thought. Kaneko accompanied many first timers on their test. The Mother trusted her above all others.

The trio slipped quietly into the house. A lone, rickety table in the corner held several bowls – more than three, as if they were expecting company for dinner. A small fire flickered in the hearth. There was a discarded doll in one corner, smudged with dirt on her rouge-painted cheeks.

“This way,” Kaneko said, pointing up a rickety, steep staircase leading into an attic. "Anzai, you stay here. Listen for intruders."

Tension ripped through Hadjia’s body. Another kill to make. Another bad person to take away from this world. Another chance to prove her loyalty to The Mother.

Hadjia led now, moving silently until she stopped at a door on the left. Motioning Kaneko back, she showed the door open and burst inside.

At first, she saw nothing. Then she noticed a slip of a dress peeking out from underneath the end of a small, narrow bed. Hadjia crouched down, peering into the darkness underneath the hay-stuffed mattress, to find herself looking into a mirror. No –a little girl. Who looked just like her.

Hadjia recoiled, blinking. The girl shook, her knees tucked into her chest from where she was wedged underneath the bed. The shape of her face was somewhat reminiscent of the dead woman’s too. Her dark eyes, pools of umber, were full of fear.

Hadjia sucked in a sharp breath. This stranger looked exactly like her.

Hadjia froze, her palms pressed into the floor as the two girls stared at each other.

Why did someone who looked just like her live out here? How was it possible? Her mind spun. It must be witchcraft. Some horrendous magical trick that The Mother was using to test her, perhaps?

No. The girl was as real as Hadjia herself.

In a flash, the girl shoved out from under the bed, scrambled to her knees, and dove for the nearby window.

Kaneko stepped forward, grabbed the girl’s arm, and jerked her back, pinning her against her chest. The little girl was staring at Hadjia when Kaneko slashed the girl’s throat.

The mirror-girl fell to her knees, gasping and gurgling. Kaneko shoved her down onto her face.

The girl’s fingers scratched at the wooden boards of the floor as she struggled to breathe. Blood streamed from her neck, staining her gown a bright crimson.

In the moments before the girl’s gurgles stopped, Hadjia felt something horrible and dark ripple through her body. She blinked, staring at the wall in terror and disbelief.

Her. Kaneko had just killed her. Her twin. Thoughts streamed through Hadjia’s mind, one after the other. Her twin. That meant . . . this had been…her family.

Hadjia's fingers went slack, and her knife dropped out of her hand. She stifled the scream building in her throat. What had Kaneko done?

Kaneko stepped back, her eyes darting between Hadjia and the girl. A look of surprise flashed across her face, then disappeared into the cool depths of Kaneko’s eyes. “Come, Hadjia.”

Anzai rushed up the stairs and into the room. “Villagers,” he panted. “They’re coming now. Someone must have seen the bodies outside and called for help.”

“We must go,” Kaneko urged.

But Hadjia remained in place, staring at the mirror-girl’s body. Would that be what she herself would look like in death?

A terrible feeling rose within Hadjia.

Mother Sigunta’s words shared with the black robed man whirled again through Hadjia’s mind, taunting her as she stared into the face of a girl who surely had been her sister.

Mother Sigunta had been ordering them to kill innocent victims. Hadjia had just killed her parents.